Many lessons I've learned in this life of mine, yet none has quite managed to make me understand or truly know love... I know that I love, I know that I am loved... have loved... will love... but my conceptualization of love seems to differ from many people around me.. I have heard the 3words "I love you" said to a new paramour only weeks into the relationship like the premature ejaculate of an over-eager man... bile rose in my throat as I thought of the many lies that will follow this first one... I have heard them used after a "but" to excuse intentional transgressions.. I have heard them said between people who could possibly know no love... the words echo in my head like a broken record of a bad electro house song... I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.. The more I hear them uttered, the more I feel they have no real meaning.. a cliche? Perhaps.
For me love is not just a feeling, love is action... Love is not an impromptu champagne picnic atop the Eiffel Tower on a warm spring night... it could be... but it's not... Love is found in the little things, in the little acts of selflessness, in devotion, in faith, forgiveness, in pain... love is hard work.. it is the patience you should have as you wait to reap the benefits of your commitment knowing that they may never come... it is giving more of yourself even when you feel there's nothing left to give. . . and yes, love can be a candlelit dinner with some prime cabernet sauvignon... but that is not the be-all and end-all of it.. the words of many a drunken clergyman come to mind: "through sickness and health".. oh indeed. for me, THAT is love. . . and because of that I am not sure I have yet loved wholly, truly and completely... I feel it coming.. a dark cloud on the horizon promising rain that will soak the earth and bring her to life... but when it arrives, whatever the love; platonic, erotic, agape, ludus, storge, pragmatic, manic, obsessive... I'll take mine with a pinch of salt, a lemon and tequila...
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